


Silent Film

by duhstydia



Series: The Different Shades of You and Me [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Stydia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 17:32:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9668786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duhstydia/pseuds/duhstydia
Summary: After getting into a fight with Lydia, Stiles' decides that he can't handle the silent treatment any longer.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first kind of attempt at writing angst so let me know what you think xx

In the second month of living together, Stiles and Lydia finally got into their first fight.

It was a late night and there was screaming, yelling, and crying. Neither of them could actually remember why or how it started, but by the end of it, both of them were sleeping in different rooms. Lydia was still angry with her boyfriend, and she was able to stay that way for a week.

For a span of 6 days, their apartment was like that of a silent film. Sure, an apology crossed their minds once or twice, but after all the silence, neither could actually find the right words to say.

It was 1:00 a.m. and Stiles had just gotten home. After a long day of classes and a few drinks at Scott and Isaac’s, he turned his key in the lock and swung open the door. The quietness of the apartment made his stomach turn. He tossed his keys into the dish by the door and kicked off his shoes.

Stiles swept into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator looking for something to wash down the buzz. The light bulb in the refrigerator flickered, asking to be changed. He found a bottle of water and threw the door shut. Before the door closed, Stiles quickly jerked his foot in front of it. The door slammed into his sock but, the noise was minimal.

He closed the door quietly as he walked to sit on a bar stool. Stiles then spun in the high chair to watch Lydia as she slept on the couch. Her body drowned in the oversized tee she wore, and Stiles recognized it as his favorite Star Wars shirt. Her knees were hugged to her chest leaving the big red couch barely occupied.

Stiles tried to recount the events that ended with his girlfriend sleeping on the couch. His mind drew a blank. The trivial matter from which their argument stemmed had escaped him. They hadn’t talked or even touched in a week, and it hurt them both.

His eyes were red and his hair was disheveled when he took a gulp from his water bottle and dropped it onto the marble counter top. Stiles stood and began unbuttoning his shirt as he walked into the bedroom. He cleared his head as he undressed and washed up. Stiles’ toes curled when they made contact with the cold tile of the bathroom floor. He splashed cold water on his face and worked diligently to scrub the taste of alcohol from his tongue.

He counted the days he spent by himself in bed like he was stranded on an island or locked in a prison. Cold, alone, and the bed felt too large, even though his feet almost touched the foot board. As expected, the pillow beside him smelt like Lydia’s shampoo, and the sheets, her favorite perfume. On the occasion, he may have grumbled about the fact that the scent rubbed off on him. In return, Lydia would argue that all his clothes had a distinct smell, but she really never complained.

Stiles stared at the ceiling above him, thinking of the morning to come. The quietness, the early and quiet “goodbyes,” and the constant distance between them. He ran his thumb across a scar on his torso as he thought. Then, he closed his eyes.

He stirred in his sleep like he always did. The things he saw with his best friend during high school didn’t cross his mind day to day, but nighttime is when they came out and reminded him where the scars came from. Lydia had her nightmares too, but suppression was something she grew to become good at, especially during the past few days.

Stiles sat straight up in the bed and ran a hand through his hair. He threw his head in his hands and shut his eyes tight before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing. The door hinges squeaked as he opened it and walked back into the living room. His half empty water bottle still stood on the counter, still and as he left it. He snatched it, unscrewed the cap, and then chugged the rest of the water.

When he placed it back on the counter, he looked at Lydia again. Her brow was heavy and her lips formed a pout. Stiles saw the stress and upset on her face. He hated to think he was the cause, but he knew it was the truth.

Stiles scratched the back of his neck before taking strides back to his bedroom. He thought as he walked, then suddenly, he stopped. “What the hell,” Stiles muttered to himself as he minced over to the couch. He took a deep breath before he lifted the thin blanket from Lydia and squished in between the back of the couch and her body.

Lydia’s eyes fluttered open and she pushed herself up. “Stiles?” she rasped.  
“Lydia,” he responded, sitting up to face her.

“What are yo–” she asked.

Stiles groaned. “Lydia,” he grabbed her hand. “Would you please shut up and let me apologize?” She dropped her gaze to their hands and nodded. “I’m sorry? Okay? I know I’m stupid and stubborn sometimes, it’s just harder now, you know? Now, what I do affects the both of us, and I need to understand that.”

Lydia brought her hand to his cheek finding warmth on his skin. “Okay,” she sniffled. Truthfully, she was as sick of the silence as he was, and she would have accepted any apology he could offer. “But Stiles, I never want to hear you call yourself stupid again, deal?”

He placed his hand over hers and laughed a little bit. “Deal.” Lydia smiled at him slightly, something she hadn’t done in a while.

Stiles and Lydia then relaxed back into the cushions. She cradled against his body and intertwined their fingers. Stiles brought their hands to his lips and kissed the back of Lydia’s hand as he inhaled the scent of her hair. He closed his eyes and held his girlfriend in the darkness of their apartment, taking pleasure in the fact that their couch had just enough room for the both of them.


End file.
